Page 61 of Pucking Tangled

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But watching Mia now, her feet bare, coffee mug in hand, wearing another guy’s shirt and looking like she belonged to him?

Casey felt like he’d been replaced in one night.

She didn’t look at him. Not directly. But she must’vefeltit—the way he was staring. The way his heart was pounding.

He didn’t say a word. He just sat there at the table, his jaw clenched and his fists curled around his coffee mug like it might keep him from saying something he couldn’t take back.

Waylon raised a brow.

Owen blushed but quickly looked away from her.

They all knew.

And, Casey could tell, none of them liked it.

Starting now, their pact was over. The gloves were off.

And Casey wasn’t sure he could pretend anymore.

Not when she looked likethat.

Not when the only thing he wanted to do was walk across the room, pin her against the wall, and show her that he wanted to be a hell of lot more than just her best friend.

He wantedhisturn.

Waylon

The sexual tension crackling the air had Waylon licking his lips.

Not the food.

Not his second cup of coffee.

Her.

Mia sat across from him, dressed in Luca’s hoodie—but with her legs curled up beneath her like she belongedtosomeone. Like she wasn’tjusttheir roommate anymore.

Waylon knew better.

She’d belonged to Luca last night. Sure.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

That was just the beginning.

They all agreed to give him time.

Let the Rookie have his moment.

And they did.

Luca had the whole fucking night to himself with her.

Everything changed now, and from the flush on her cheeks and the way her eyes kept darting around the table, watching them before looking away quickly, Mia knew it, too.

“Damn, this is good,” Luca muttered around a forkful of French toast. “Who knew you could cook, Waylon?”

“Bacon’s burnt,” Casey said flatly, stabbing a piece anyway. The man was full of shit, but Waylon didn’t respond.

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